Union County

by Mike McGranaghan

Union County is hardly the first gritty indie to deal with drug addiction. Last year brought us the Appalachia-set Hazard, and there’s an excellent thus-far-unreleased picture called Cotton Fever that debuted at this year’s Tribeca Festival. Those are merely two examples. Adam Meeks’s film stands out from the pack, though. It was made in conjunction with an actual group of addicts making their way through an Ohio drug court. They play themselves, as do the judge and a social worker. That adds a staggering level of authenticity to what we see unfold.

Cody Parsons (Will Poulter) is in recovery for an opioid addiction. He’s been mandated to take part in the same drug court program as his childhood foster brother Jack (Noah Centineo). He reports to the judge on a weekly basis, attends 12-step meetings, and undergoes routine urine tests. Jack gets him a job cutting lumber. Staying clean proves difficult, especially since Jack is not nearly as committed to sobriety as Cody is, thereby making himself a bad influence.

Plot is intentionally not heavy in Union County. Instead of going for typical drama regarding whether the main character will relapse, Meeks opts to put viewers inside the life of someone going through this system, where accountability is everywhere and a slight slip-up could mean jail time. It’s an observant film, with multiple scenes of the addicts talking to the judge or sharing their experiences in meetings. That frank, raw approach is mesmerizing.

Over time, we come to learn the hows and whys of Cody’s addiction, which, as with most addicts, stems from a past trauma he’s continually running from. Poulter disappears into character, mixing in credibly with his non-professional co-stars. The actor brings out Cody’s wounded quality in a manner that’s as forceful as it is quiet. If you know any addicts in real life, you’ve probably sensed the internal struggle they often face, wondering if sobriety is 1.) possible; and 2.) worth it. Without explosive moments or even a ton of dialogue, Poulter conveys this guy’s psychology so that we feel it.

In telling Cody’s story – and telling it in this particular manner - Union County meaningfully humanizes people battling addiction. Writing them off as “druggies” can be too easy. The movie recognizes that these are human beings, struggling to make sense out of an often-confusing life without whatever substance previously served as their coping skill. And that’s the inherent drama. How will Cody navigate recovery? Will he be able to wrangle his demons so that he can resume a healthier existence? There is no need for showy, melodramatic scenes when the stakes are already this high.

Poulter is the perfect choice to portray Cody. We know him from pictures like We’re the Millers, Midsommar, and I Love Boosters where his charm and charisma are apparent. Witnessing him as a young man trying to claw his way back up from rock bottom is a reminder that addiction can happen to anyone. More importantly, so can healing.